


All The Times Dean Fell For Cas

by edgelord224 (vampre)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bi Dean, Bisexual Dean, Canon Compliant, M/M, Slow Burn, gay pining, i dunno if I'll actually finish this ever but, i thought y'all might like it, let dean say fuck, this basically follows canon but gayer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 12:13:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19062451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vampre/pseuds/edgelord224
Summary: Dean tells the story of how he met and fell for Cas, sort of.





	1. The Meeting

“You sure you did the ritual right?” I looked up from the knife I was twirling on the table to calm my nerves.  
Bobby was giving me a look. A very “are you fucking kidding me, Dean, of course I’m sure I did the damn ritual right” look.  
“Sorry.” I looked back at the knife. “Touchy, touchy, huh?” I picked up the knife and set it down with the other weapons. Almost immediately, that weird wind started up. You know what I mean, the weird roof-shaking stuff. Bobby and I looked at each other and stood up, shotguns in hand, facing the door.  
“Wishful thinking, but maybe it's just the wind.” And not the Big So-Bad-Nobody-Has-Ever-Heard-Of-It. Right, that’s believable.  
A few seconds of looking around anxiously later, the lights above our heads started to shatter. Okay, so definitely not just the wind. Then the door forced itself open and in walked some guy in a trench coat. Castiel probably. He looked around at the walls as he walked, almost as if he were confused by the markings we’d put on the walls, but not even remotely concerned about the lights above his head shattering as he walked.  
Holy hell and fuck, I remember thinking, whatever this thing is, it’s goddamn fucking strong. I started shooting, but he didn’t even look at me. At first I thought I missed, but as he got closer Bobby and I each shot him a few times at least, but no dice. He turned toward us then, finally, and just stared while walking towards us. Talk about freakin’ unnerving.  
Bobby and I looked at each other and I could tell we were both thinking about the same damn thing. This is one dangerous motherfucker we have on our hands.  
I put down my shotgun and pulled out the knife. You know, the special knife that kills pretty much anything.  
“Who are you?” I asked, preparing my stance to fight. Castiel turned towards me, turning his back on Bobby (never a wise move in a fight, by the way, unless you’re mega-powerful and have nothing to worry about). He looked…. Confused? Or maybe concerned. He definitely didn’t look like he was gunning for a fight, but I wasn’t about to fall for any goddamn tricks.  
“I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition,” he said, as if that wasn’t the weirdest fucking wording. I mean seriously, who the fuck talks like that.  
“Yeah, thanks for that.” My eyes and voice were both hard. No matter how confused he seemed, he was powerful and apparently after me, and I wasn’t about to fall for a goddamn trick. I raised the knife and plunged it deep into his chest.  
He didn’t even flinch. Just stared at me, almost defiantly? Or maybe amused. God, his face is hard to read sometimes. I took a step back.  
He looked down at the knife, then back up at me. He just stared at me while he reached across and pulled the knife out, then dropped it. Okay, literally what the fuck. If he wasn’t hurt by that thing, I basically just handed him a weapon and he drops it? What the hell?  
I looked over at Bobby, probably looking confused as all hell. Bobby looked at me, then took a swing at Castiel with a crowbar. He still didn’t look away from me as he caught it, a mildly annoyed expression on his face.  
He turned around swiftly, still holding the crowbar, and slowly touched his fingers to Bobby’s forehead. Bobby fell to the ground, dropping the crowbar on the way. Castiel watched him fall. His back was to me, but I remember thinking, holy mother of god this is some deep shit we’re in this time.  
I watched too, and I’m damn glad Bobby didn’t hit his head or anything on the way down. I looked back up at Castiel, not sure what to expect from him. As far as I knew, nothing would kill him and he could probably kick my ass in half a second flat, considering that’s what he just did to Bobby. Basically, I thought, I’m fucking fucked.  
He turned back to me, with that look I would almost swear was concern on his face. Or… something like that.  
“We need to talk, Dean.” I just stared at him incredulously, still in fighting stance. I glanced at Bobby.  
“Alone,” he added. Right, yeah, okay, and I’m supposed to just be okay with the fact that Bobby’s just lying on the floor like that?  
He turned away, walking over to the table Bobby had been standing at, and after a second or two and a glance at him, I went over and crouched by Bobby to check his pulse. He still had one, luckily. I looked up at Castiel.  
“Your friend is alive,” he said, not even looking up from whatever he was touching on the table. I mean, I figured that part out myself, but it was good to know he didn’t intend to kill Bobby either.  
“Who are you?” I asked, my voice still low and hard.  
“Castiel,” he answered, with barely a nod in my direction. As if we didn’t say his name as part of the summoning ritual.  
“Yeah, I figured that much. I mean what are you?” I watched him carefully, cautiously, but he didn’t seem to be trying to hurt me.  
He looked up at me at that, apparently completely serious. “I’m an angel of the lord.”  
I almost laughed out freakin’ loud. An angel. Right, and I’m the goddamn pope.  
I looked him up and down, and his expression became a little sad. What the fuck, does he really think I’m going to believe that shit? No fucking way. I stood up angrily, carefully.  
“Get the hell out of here.” I’m not going to deal with that crap. We already established angels aren’t fucking real like, two seasons ago. “There’s no such thing.”  
He took a few steps toward me and I watched him warily, half expecting him to attack me. What do you even plan against something like him? Instead, he gave me a look like he was humoring a kid.  
“This is your problem, Dean.” His expression become more serious. “You have no faith.”  
I stared at him for a second. Faith? Seriously? He wants me to take it on faith that he’s a freakin’ angel?  
Then there was a flash of light revealing the shadow of freakin’ wings behind him, opening up and out across the empty barn. Then another flash, and another, and then they were at their full height. They made an impressive display, gotta say.  
But still, having wings- or being able to fake having wings- doesn’t prove shit. No matter how pretty they are.  
“Some angel you are,” I said, my voice a little lighter but my eyes hard. “You burned out that poor woman's eyes.”  
He looked down and to the side, almost seeming to regret that. “I warned her not to spy on my true form.” He took a few steps closer. “It can be…” He paused, as if trying to find the right word, then looked at me again. “Overwhelming to humans. And so can my real voice, but you already knew that.”  
How the hell did I- oh. Oh holy shit. “You mean the gas station and the motel.” He didn’t say anything, so I continued. “That was you talking?”  
He nodded seriously.  
I looked away incredulously, then back. “Buddy, next time lower the volume.”   
He glanced at the floor, almost looking…. Embarrassed? He looked back up at me. “That was my mistake.” His eyes, I noticed, were very blue. And very wide open as he stared at me. What the hell is with all the intense unbroken eye contact? “Certain people- special people, can perceive my true visage. I thought you would be one of them. I was wrong.”  
My feelings about being told I’m not special enough to see an angel’s “true visage” aside, I was more concerned about the body he was inhabiting.  
“And what visage are you in now, huh? What- holy tax accountant?”  
He looked down at the body with a smile, fingering the open sides of his trench coat. “This? This is...” He looked up at me, dropping his hands to his sides, and I would have sworn he looked goddamn proud. “A vessel.”  
I looked at him. Unbe-fucking-lievable. “You’re possessing some poor bastard?” Right, because that totally makes the angel thing more believable.  
“He’s a… devout man,” he said, his expression becoming slightly more serious. “He actually prayed for this.”  
“Look pal, I’m not buying what you’re selling, so who are you, really?” I said, my voice still hard. I’m not falling for this shit, I thought, no way. No matter how convincing this is, no matter how naïve and honest this guy seems, there’s no way in hell he’s an angel. After all, like I said, they don’t exist.  
His eyebrows furrowed and he tilted his head to the side like a goddamn golden retriever. “I told you.”  
“Right.” I shifted my stance angrily. “And why would an angel,” I emphasized how ridiculous that sounded with a look and a pause, then continued, “rescue me from hell?” I glared at him.  
And then he walked towards me, a curious look on his face. “Good things do happen, Dean.” He stopped when he was already definitely inside my bubble, maybe eight inches away from me.  
I watched him warily, trying to keep the fear off my face and out of my voice. “Not in my experience.” It didn’t come off as seamless as I like. I swallowed hard. The intense freakin’ eye contact and how unnervingly close he was made it harder to school my face.  
Not gonna lie, I wasn’t sure which I was more afraid of- how close he was (Seriously, personal space? Not to mention he’s clearly very dangerous and at this distance he could do pretty much freakin’ whatever), or the off-chance he was telling the truth.  
His expression morphed into one of concern and confusion. “What’s the matter?” He stared at me for another few seconds while I tried to keep my face and breathing neutral. His eyes widened with realization, and when he spoke his voice was tender, gentle. “You don’t think you deserve to be saved.” It was probably the gentlest thing anyone had ever said to me and I freakin’ hated it. I hated that it was happening, that it was coming from him, hated how goddamn concerned he looked and that he barely freakin’ knew me and somehow could apparently read my goddamn mind and decided to call me out on it. Or was just reeeeally good at bluffing. It had to be a bluff to gain my trust, I thought. It had to be. Real funny, asshole.  
I glared down at him. “Why’d you do it?” My voice was hard again. Thank fuck.  
His expression didn’t change at first, still confused, but he un-tilted his head and licked his lips before tilting his head down just enough to stare at me intently and a little menacingly. “Because God commanded it.” I stared at him, my expression unchanging, and he stared back. “Because we have work for you.”  
Oh. Fuck.  
And then he fucking vanished.


	2. Chapter 2

My eyes snapped open and I held very still for a few seconds while I figured out where I was and what had woken me up. Bobby’s house. Right. Middle of the night. Probably not in too much danger. Either way, I definitely wasn’t freakin’ getting back to sleep, that much I knew for sure. Not that that was an unusual occurrence for me. I’d always been a pretty light sleeper, but it’d gotten worse ever since, you know, literally dying and going to hell.  
I looked around, trying to find a clock so I could figure out how many hours I had to kill till Sam and Bobby woke up. Not seeing one in immediate eyeshot, I rolled over to look at a clock in the kitchen, but paused when I saw a dark human-shaped silhouette against the moonlight coming in through the yellowed blinds on the far wall. I looked at him for a few seconds, trying to figure out exactly what to do.  
After a quick glance at Sam to make sure he was still asleep, I stood up as quietly as I could and slowly walked into the kitchen.  
“Excellent job with the witnesses,” said Castiel, punctuating his words with a slight nod.  
“…You were hip to all this?” I glared at him. That would have been nice to fucking know.  
Castiel nodded in a very more-or-less-yeah kind of way. “I was, uh, made aware.”  
Wow, okay. “Well, thanks a lot for the angelic assistance. You know, I almost got my heart ripped out of my chest.” I pointed to my heart for emphasis. Was that necessary? Yes. I needed to emphasize it. It was traumatic.  
Castiel rolled his eyes, barely even pausing before saying, “But you didn't.” As if that somehow meant it didn’t even need to be considered that I still could have. And he and his little angel buddies didn’t do shit about it. If he even really was an angel.  
I gave him a hard look. “I thought angels were supposed to be guardians. Fluffy wings, halos—you know, Michael Landon. Not dicks.”  
Castiel looked at me for a long and mildly uncomfortable second, a small smile playing at his lips. “….Read the bible.”  
I definitely didn’t come to this conversation prepared for sass. I remember thinking it was absolutely freakin’ bizarre to hear something so casual and almost friendly coming from the mouth of something so very definitely not human.  
“Angels are warriors of god,” Castiel continued. “I’m a soldier.”  
“Yeah? Then why didn’t you fight?” Some soldier, I remember thinking, considering the god damn apocalypse was apparently happening and he was off doing god knows what.  
Castiel’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not here… to perch on your shoulder. We had larger concerns.” (Perch on my shoulder? What the hell does that even mean?)  
“Concerns?” You’ve gotta be freakin’ kidding me. What the hell kind of concerns were so important? “There were people getting torn to shreds down here.” Castiel looked away, so I continued. Also because fuck him. “And by the way, while all this is going on where the hell is your boss, huh?” He looked back up at me. “If there is a God.”  
Castiel’s face became very serious. “There’s a God.”  
“I'm not convinced.” Castiel looked away and opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it and looked down. He didn’t look so sure. I kept going. “’Cause if there's a God, what the hell is he waiting for, huh? Genocide? Monsters roaming the earth? The freakin’ apocalypse? At what point does he lift a damn finger and help the poor bastards stuck down here?”  
Without looking up, and in a pretty tired voice, Castiel said, “The Lord works in-”  
“If you say ‘in mysterious ways’, so help me, I will kick your ass.” Seriously, I did not get out of bed to get the same damn spiel that I could get in literally any church and probably all the houses of nice suburban seniors. As far as evidence, the whole “well that’s just how it is” argument is pretty freakin’ weak, if you ask me.  
Castiel threw his hands in the air and looked to the side with a small smile, his hands grabbing the kitchen counter he was leaning on when they came down.  
And shit, I didn’t know how to react to that. Anger I can do, manipulation I can do. Attacking me, that I can handle. I get that. But this? What the hell was this? I mean, he could easily kick my ass and we both knew it, but he was talking to me like he’s just some normal guy. It was freakin’ jarring, that’s what it was.  
But you know, I couldn’t help but start to think that I kinda liked him, and maybe even could trust him. At least a little.  
And then we talked about the coming apocalypse, the seals, Lucifer, etc. all which I’m guessing you already know all about considering you’re reading this. And hell, I even kind of started to believe him about the whole angel thing. Then I told Cas he did a pretty shitty job of keeping the seals from opening, all things considered.  
And then Cas got all up in my personal space (again) talking about the armies of heaven and how I need to look at “the bigger picture”. Basically appealing to me as a fellow soldier, which, to be fair, I can definitely respect. It gave me some perspective at least. He wasn’t the one I should be angry with.  
“You should show me. Some respect,” he said, his voice low and intense. He stared directly into my eyes, unblinking, and paused either for effect or to make sure I was listening. I mean, either way he had my attention. If you’ve never been stared down by an angel, I wouldn’t recommend it (unless you’re into the whole bossy/degradation thing). It’s intense. And intimate, holy crap.  
“I dragged you out of hell. I can throw you back in.” He stared me down another few seconds for good measure before disappearing. Literally, just suddenly gone. Poof. How the hell does he even keep doing that?

And then I woke up.


	3. Chapter 3

I woke with a start. Nightmares tend to do that to a person.  
“Hello Dean.” I looked over my shoulder to find Castiel sitting next to me. “What were _you_ dreaming about?” God, there was that freakin’ concern again. For fuck’s sake.  
I rolled back over, looking away from him and angrily shoving at the jacket that was serving as my blanket as I sat up. “What, d’you get your freak on by watching other people _sleep?”_ I turned to look at him again. He was looking straight ahead. The light hit his profile pretty nicely, not gonna lie. “What do you want?”  
“Listen to me.” He turned to look at me, a serious expression on his face. “You have to stop it.”  
Well that’s vague and not at all menacing. “Stop what?”  
And then he put two fingers to my forehead and sent me back in freakin’ time to rescue my mom. That, as we all know, went just fucking peachy.  
This was the first time we talked since I started actually thinking I might believe him about the whole angel thing.  
And after mom made the deal with the yellow-eyed demon and Cas sent me back to the future, we talked again.  
I stayed laying down for a few seconds after I woke up, trying to process my failure. When I sat up, I saw Cas standing there, not looking at me.  
“I couldn’t stop any of it.” Not the demon, not any of the deals it made, not mom, nothing. “She still made the deal.” Shit. I looked down. “She still died in the nursery, didn’t she?” I looked back at Cas.  
“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” he said, not even looking at me. His eyes were hard. “You couldn’t have stopped it.”  
I stood up slowly, giving him a guarded look. “What?” Was he saying he sent me back there, showed me all of that, for nothing? I had to watch them all die and my mom make a deal for nothing?  
“Destiny can’t be changed, Dean.” He turned towards me finally, a sad look on his face. “All roads lead to the same destination.”


End file.
